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I've just found out that there's a wrestling move called 'Sliced Bread #2'. How embarrassing. Anyway, that's not where the title of this journal comes from. I thought it up when I was in high school and always wanted to use it for something.

Thanks to blogger.com for the hosting and the template. Content is copyright Dennis Relser (M. Elmslie) 2004-05.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

I was compiling wire and informant reports this evening, and I wanted to get it done quickly so that when Cassie got in from her raid on Number-Cruncher's warehouse hideout, I'd have her next job ready to go. It's all about turnaround time.

Then Ingrid showed up. "Hi," I said, still looking at the screen.

"Hey," she said, sitting down on the desk. "I'm bored."

"Uh huh."

"I haven't seen Victor all week. Do you know what he's up to?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Yeah? What?"

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Are you listening to me?"

I blinked. "Huh? No, sorry."

"Jesus. Do you or do you not know what Victor has been doing the last few days?"

"No. Why, do you?" She might, after all.

"Dickwit. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, would I?"

"Mm."

"Don't do that, please."

"Unh."

"Do you not want to talk?"

"I don't mind if you talk. But I have to do this."

"God, I'm bored."

"Well," I said, hitting 'Save', "this office has never been the most exciting place." I started entering the settings for ranking and scheduling tonight's supervillain events.

"Tell me about it."

"You could feed the fish if you want. You could, I don't know, there's chicken in the fridge if you're hungry."

"No, thanks." She picked up a couple of my printouts and flipped through them. "Oh, look," she said, reading, "the Decapitator broke out of jail." She tossed the printouts back onto the desk. "Hey, Dennis?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever wonder what we're doing here?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh. Okay. Then have you ever wondered what I'm doing here?"

"Yeah, for the last five minutes now."

"Mistake!" she said, and leapt. There followed an extended tussle that went through several stages and ended with me wedged between two of my desks and the word 'PAYBACK' written on my forehead in Liquid Paper. I gave as good as I got, though; she had 'WENCH' across her neck.

No, 'awko' means, basically, 'awkward person'. I ran into it in high school in eastern Ontario and tiefed it (along with 'usie' (useless person)) for Perseid's use even though she's supposed to be from California.